Try to Deny It, Try to Protest
by twostrandsofmelody
Summary: An AU ending to Love Never Dies. The continuing story of LND in my mind. Because the Phantom and Christine are never over.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Basically it's the third installation to the Phantom of the Opera and it leaves off right at the end of Love Never Dies – with a twist.**

**~o~**

A final kiss. As painful as the curtain dropping on your final performance. As damning as the final glance back as you sail away with another man. A final breath wrenched from your aching throbbing lungs.

Christine gasped again, eyes fluttering open. Her Phantom was still there. Had she not died? But the pain was overwhelming and her breathing was jagged and painful. That was her last breath; she was satisfied in some dark way for her life to end just as it had. But instead she breathed another breath. And another.

"Christine!" Erik sobbed, clutching her to his chest. "My Christine."

"Mum?" Gustave asked, kneeling beside his mother and _his_ father. "Mum!"

"Gustave, Gustave." Christine's words were weak as she tried to focus her eyes on one or the other. Her lover or their son. "Come to me Gustave, let me hold you near." Her hand trembled as she tried to hold it out, reaching for him.

Gustave timidly stepped closer. He wanted to hug his mother but to hug his mother meant to hug Mr. Y. Not Mr. Y – his father. He had so many questions to ask him. So many unanswered questions. Despite fearing the masked musician he pressed himself against his mother, holding her close. "Please live mum."

"For us, Christine. For the three of us." Erik pleaded, rocking her gently in his arms. He wrapped his arms around both Gustave and Christine, relishing at the feel of having a family in his embrace. "We can move back to France, live in the country and be a family."

"Oh Erik," Christine murmured, "If I had been able to find you." She coughed, sputtering on her words. "I would have left Raoul to be with you. To live as this."

"Shh," Erik whispered, pressing a kiss against her hair. "We have more time to talk about this."

"What will happen to father, mum?" Gustave questioned innocently, prying himself away from Mr. Y's arms. "Has he gone back without us?" He looked around the pier, frowning.

Erik watched him, seeing now so much more of himself in the child. "Gustave, can you stay here with your mum?" He pulled away from Christine, glancing down at the crimson stain on her pale pink jacket.

"No! Don't leave me." Christine gasped, clutching for him to stay. "Please."

Erik closed his eyes, glancing between Christine and the looming Coney Island. "I need to find someone to care for you."

"Take me back to Coney Island."

Erik stooped down, scooping her up into his arms. "Gustave, come along." He couldn't expect that moving her was a safe idea, but he couldn't deny her her wishes any longer. He denied her ten years of desires and wishes. Even if it meant her death, she would die happy.

Christine nestled her head against his strong chest. The pain was blinding, her vision clouded with tears and her head foggy with blood loss. How could Meg have done this to her? She had been raised alongside her, they had been like sisters. She had not purposely come to ruin her career or favour with the Phantom. _Mr. Y_. She hadn't known that he would be there. She couldn't be blamed and now she could die because of a misunderstanding.

There were so many things left unsaid with Erik. That night, that beautiful night beneath a moonless sky. They had forgotten their barriers, their fears; they had whispered and shouted such beautiful phrases of adoration, appreciation, and love. They had become one soul together. Their separate strands combining into one beautiful melody that she never wished to end. She had woke to swore her undying love to him and found him gone. Those were words she thought she'd never say to him. Never hear from him.

She sang that love never dies - his lyrics and his aria, his words and her voice. Was that the only way they were capable of admitting those words to each other? They had danced around the strange possession that he held over her, they skirted around the dangerous passion that lit their eternal flames, they sang the lyrics that words failed them.

"No more talk of darkness." Christine sang weakly, straining against the pressure in her stomach. "Forget these wide eyed fear. Love me, that's all I ask of you."

Erik stared into her face, holding his breath as her words sank in. "Christine." He rasped, breathless and barely audible. "I love you."

The words, the sound – they stung her ears. The memories of when she had first left him. Their parting kiss when she won their freedom. That had never been what she had wanted. She had kissed him because she chosen him. But he misunderstood or couldn't believe. He had sung those broken lyrics when she returned the ring. A quiet promise that she would return to him.

Christine let out a yelp of pain, tears flooding her eyes again as she twisted in his arms. "I am not ready Lord. God don't take me now."

"Shhh," Erik whispered into her ear, pressing kisses to her hair again. "For our son, you must live. For me you must live."

"Mother please." Gustave begged as he followed close beside Mr. Y. They were within the shadow of Coney Island, not far from the world where anything was possible. The world where he knew his mother would survive in.

"Gustave, you must learn to accept Erik, Mr. Y, your father."

Gustave stopped in his tracks, "Is he the man that father said you'd never stopped thinking of? The man who taught you to sing? The reason why father was coarse about music?"

"Come along, Gustave this is not the time to question her. She needs to rest. Then, when she is better, you can ask her all of these questions." Erik pushed through the doors of the theatre, cradling Christine closer to him. He travelled down up the spiral staircase, making his way to his realm.

Laying her down on the dark sheets of his bed. Their bed, one day, if she still wanted him. Their room even, if there was still a chance for that. If God were merciful. If their love truly would never die.

**A/N: Most likely a shorter story, only a few chapters. Hopefully it won't span into being 50 some chapters like my others! Woo!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Gustave, could you leave the room for just a little while. I am sure Fleck would be more than willing to show you around some intriguing section of Phantasma. The acrobats are no doubt warming up for tomorrow and you could watch them." Erik said as he examined Christine's wound. He needed to put to use his limited medical skills and he didn't want his son standing by to listen to any cries of pain or muttered curses from either of them.

"Mr.Y- "Gustave stopped himself, "Father, will Mother be alright?"

"Say a prayer as you go to find Fleck." Erik said quietly, shooing him away.

"Gustave, dear, listen to your father." Christine added, her voice was as weak as the loose grip she had on Erik's forearm. Her eyes were desperate as she stared up at him. She didn't want to die. As distant as she had kept herself, she had denied herself the desire to take Erik into her arms and kiss him. They had come so close to it, but she didn't find the comfort of his lips again until she lay bleeding to death.

"If you promise me you'll be alright." Gustave stepped towards the bed, his eyes were wide and scared. "You have to be alright, Mother."

Christine gave a strained laugh, trying to shield the pain from showing on her face. "When this is all over with, the three of us can take a trip to the beach and you can learn to swim."

"Yes. I'll teach you how to swim." Erik added in, trying to speed Gustave along. He placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeezing. "She will be alright."

"I'll see you soon," Gustave said as he stepped away from the bed, he was afraid that he could lose his mother like he had already almost lost her. "I love you mother."

"Run along Gustave." Christine's voice trembled as she watched her son leaving, completely ignorant that he could return to a world without a mother. Or he was as clever as she was and Erik was, and Gustave had learned how to cleverly conceal his own emotions beneath a facade of trust and belief.

"Now, let me see if I can find the bullet." Erik said after a long moment of just staring down at the beautiful brunette on his bed. He wished she could be lying there under different circumstances. Perhaps if they hadn't deceived themselves and each other towards what they felt – they wouldn't be in this situation. Erik felt his heart swell with pride of the fact that he had won her, whether wounded or not. She was his fair and square.

"Erik, if I die-"

"You won't die."

"But I coul-"

"But nothing, you _will_ live." Erik pressed, as he reached into his pocket to find his knife. Drawing the blade he glanced between Christine and the silver metal. "I need you to know that I do not mean to hurt you."

"Nothing you can do is hurt me as bad as you did ten years ago." Christine replied, closing her eyes in preparation for him as he pried the fabric away from the bullet wound.

"I was ashamed for what I was." Erik hissed, cringing as he heard her cry of pain.

"I chose you and you turned me away, over and over again. I choose you now." Christine grabbed his hand, closing her eyes and trying to steady her rapid breathing. "Please, there is only you and Gustave now."

"If I could change what happened." Erik sighed, letting his hand cup her cheek. There were so many things unsaid between them. They couldn't deny what they shared. The connection that had been there no matter where they had been.

"It has happened for a reason." Christine gasped as she moved in just the wrong way. "Please, let's get this over with."

Erik took a deep breath, examining the wound one more time before digging into the wound with the blade of the knife. He tried to move as quickly as possible as he searched for the bullet. The blade met the bullet, giving him just the right leverage to pry it from her stomach. He had tried to ignore her cries of pain, the tears racing down her cheeks, and her white knuckles as she balled her fists into the sheets.

"It is out." Erik spoke calmly as he turned away to find something he could use as bandaging. He wasn't used to injuries and makeshift surgeries. The only thing clean and white that he could find was one of his shirts, which he tore into strips without a second thought.

"Christine," Erik shook her hand when she didn't respond. "Christine." She was laying lip against the bed, her hand flopped over the side of the bed. "Christine, please. No." Frantically he checked her pulse, feeling the warm thumping of the vein beneath her ivory skin.

She had not died. She was merely passed out from the pain. He remembered the first time Christine had passed out in his presence. She fell into his arms after seeing the wedding gown and the mannequin of herself. That had been a happy place in time.

Erik gently placed the torn pieces of bandage over her wound, applying pressure as he wrapped a strip around her petite waist. Even in an unconscious state he didn't want to cause her any pain. He had caused her enough pain in her life.

"I am sorry Christine. Apologizing for the first time in my miserable life. You are the world to me. You are the music that makes up my lifeblood. How it is that I left you that night, left you and our son, left the life we could have known, I will never understand. Some things in life are never meant to be known by us."

Erik knelt beside the bed, holding her hand and pressing his lips against the cool skin. She would live, he knew she would.

**A/N: I apologize for this being a little shorter. But I swear to goodness I thought LND Erik would be easy to write but apparently I right psychotic Paris Erik significantly easier. _**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Since I started this in March I have seen LND (twice) in London. Met Ramin Karimloo and pretty much died and came back to life. Message me for a link to my pic with Ramin :) Also, since I started – six months ago, LND is closing in a few days…for good. But, fear not, my love will never die. **

~o~

Fleck and Gangle took Gustave on a tour of the many stages at Phantasma. They tried their best to keep the distraught boy entertained. He saw part of every show in the world of wonder. From acrobats to magic shows. One thing he noticed was that there were employees walking around the park, pasting over the posters for the "Oo La La Girls".

Miss Giry wouldn't be dancing again.

She had seemed so nice too. There was none of the hostility she had showed at the pier when his mother first saw her again. He had trusted her and so had his mother.

"What do you think of the park, little boy?" Fleck asked drawing Gustave away from the poster of the "Oo La La Girls". "Is it everything you dreamed?"

"Yes." Gustave nodded and turned away. "I don' know why she did it."

"Why who did what?" Gangle asked with a little smirk on his face at his sentence.

"Miss Giry. I don't know why she killed my mother."

Fleck gasped, "But she isn't dead! The master will fix him I promise you. He fixed Gangle and myself, and Squelch."

"What?" The young boy's head tilted.

Gangle tapped the gold toned trumpet shaped pipe coming from his neck. "My vocal cord was severed, but he fixed me."

"I fell during a stunt and my leg was twisted and shattered, but the master reset it." Fleck rested her hand on her brace. "He was our salvation. If he can fix us he can fix her."

Gustave stared in wonder at Gangle, "I can't believe you can talk now."

Gangle laughed hoarsely, "It was a miracle."

~o~

"Where's Gustave?" Christine asked, though her eyes were still closed.

"He's with Fleck and the others. I sent him away, remember?"

"Yes." Christine nodded blearily opening her eyes. "I do remember now."

"Stay still, I don't want you to reopen the wound." Erik brushed his fingers along the curve of her cheek. "You passed out while I was removing the bullet and I was afraid you had slipped into a coma." His hands were trembling.

"I feel like I have slept for weeks."

"Losing consciousness can be the best moments of rest." There was a long moment of silence and Erik suddenly laughed.

"What is funny?"

"That we are sitting here, talking about sleep, when you nearly died." Erik took her hands in his shaking hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing them. "I am sorry for everything I have done to you. I shouldn't have done this. I shouldn't have brought you to Phantasma, I should have kept my distance."

"Erik-"

"When I heard that you were to sing for Rogers and Hammerstein, I longed to see you once more. I have craved the sound of your voice for _ten_ years. I was going to attend their concert but it was not as satisfying as bringing you hear to sing.. for _me._"

"Oh." Christine's eyes opened wide as she felt a tear from his eyes falling on to her hands. "Erik. Don't think that this is wrong. This happened for a reason, I am certain. I didn't love Raoul… He was not the man I married ten years ago. He had changed. Changed because of my lack of interest. I didn't care for him as a wife should. Gustave became my pride and joy and devoted my time in raising him. I think Raoul always knew…"

"How are you certain?"

"Raoul was gone nearly a month after our wedding. I was ill the evening of our wedding night and we decided to postpone our marital bed. I kept hoping and praying that I would see you in the courtyard during my wedding, that I think I worked myself up into a very stressed state. A month later when he returned, I was already a month pregnant."

"How did you conceal…" Erik didn't dare to say it. He didn't feel that he had the right to mention the night he took her when he had left her.

"I am a dancer, things happen." Christine shrugged, cringing at a stab of pain. "Gustave was born a month early in Raoul's mind. But he was such a healthy size for an early birth, I knew that he had some question in his mind. But Raoul would never question me."

"I am so, sorry." Erik whispered, bowing his head in defeat. "I shouldn't have left you. But I was ashamed of this." He jerked when he felt Christine's hand on his mask. She pulled it free from his cheek and he closed his eyes. Her hand pulled away the wig he wore, discarding both to the opposite side of the bed.

"I had wanted to kiss you when I came to take Gustave away. You reminded me of the man I left standing on the shore of your labyrinth. But I knew if I kissed you, we would all be undone. But I have lost Raoul for real now, he doesn't linger like he has for ten years. It is only you and me and _our_ son now."

"Christine." Erik muttered, bringing his face close to hers with a light beckon of her finger. She showered his disfigurement with tender kisses, setting the twisted flesh alight with pleasure. She clutched to his hairless head as if her life depended on it.

"I love you." Christine bit her lip and looked up at him. "Please don't leave me again"

"Never again." Erik leaned down to kiss her, loosing himself in her lips. She was alive! She was here! She was his! Finally he could have her as his own. He didn't have to find some way to lure her to him, to capture her and ensnare her.

For ten years she had been missing him too. That was the most satisfying revelation he had heard. He had a chance to correct the wrongs he had done to Christine. He couldn't go back and change it but he could change the way things would go from here.

**A/N: *hides* I still don't like post LND Erik. He's too hard to write. Bleh.**

**The backstory I wrote for Fleck can be found in my story "A Fleck of Hope". My backstory on Raoul and Christine can be found in my story "The Voyage". **

**I'm also working on another *sighs* AU LND story called "Always Christine!"**


End file.
